The Slammer
by i eat slytherins for breakfast
Summary: Alice takes her obsession with designer clothes too far, and ends up in prison. But what will happen when she is put into a cell with one of the city's most hardened criminals, will the Cullens be able to save her in time?
1. Armed Robbery with nail scissors

At a quarter to seven on a Saturday morning, a security camera spotted a lone figure darting through the few cars in the car park, on its way to the mall doors. When the automatic glass doors failed to open, the figure fished out a pair of limited edition diamond encrusted nail scissors from a small clutch bag, and began to file a hole in the glass, just big enough for its petite size six figure to squeeze through. When this was done, the figure rushed inside, forgetting the presence of security cameras, in her rush for that new Gucci coat.

**ALICE'S POV**

Honestly, I knew I couldn't count on Jasper to understand. Sure, war, hunting general vampire things were important, but this, this is HUGE! I was just harmlessly googling Gok Wan's top fashion tips for November08, when my eyes fell upon, a GORGEOUS black jacket made by Gucci, which Gok declared to be a must-have buy for this season! I could just see it on me now, the soft fabric swishing round my hips as walked down the street on a Saturday night peering over my huge sunglasses at the jealous women pouring out of the clubs and bars on the high street. Yes, I HAD to have this jacket.

But it was impossible to know, if some horrendous, six-foot fashion conscious size six was going to make an impulse decision to walk past and buy the ONLY jacket left in my size??? I could NOT let that happen. Why couldn't Jasper see that? Honestly, even the usual threat of BarryM dazzle dust sprinkled all over his clothes didn't work. He just sat there rubbing his forehead, looking as if he'd heard this story waay to many times in the past. (Which was TOTALLY untrue, I've only forced him to break into stores before opening times about 18 times before, seriously, what's the big deal?)

"Alice, I just can't do this every season, for the new must have item. The cops in this town must think I'm some sort of cross dresser, the amount of times I've been arrested holding a little black dress, or the limited edition yellow thong from la senza. I am NOT going through that again!"

Some people simply don't know the necessity of a new jacket.

Which is why I'm tiptoeing through the mall, three hours before opening time by myself. For the first time, ever. Its quite exhilarating really, not to mention the great window shopping that an be done, without people permanently blocking my view. I should do this more often. I'm beginning to think Jasper's just holding me back. It was his 'war & waiting' skills that got us caught that time when I wanted those chandelier earrings from Bloomingdale's (I still get a tear in my eye when I see people wearing those).

I'm approaching the shop now, and if my heart still beat, it would be hammering away now….I can see the coat, pick out its exquisite embroidery, and shiny buttons, and it's size six label, and a hand reaching out and grabbing it. Wait, a hand?! NO WAY has someone sneaked in before me and got that! Damn, I knew I shouldn't have stopped to check out the new topshop collection, but seriously, If Bella wont take expensive gifts, I at least have to dress her nicely in high street fashion! I can see the silhouette of the person who stole MY coat. Wait, they are SO not a size six. God, size 18 would be generous with those shoulders. And that haircut, its practically shaved! You'd think, with a muscled figure like that, a woman would at least have decent hair! But it CAN'T be a man. I mean, sure they might be wearing a security guard's outfit, but I can see the pink lace thong poking out. And why on EARTH would you wear a terracotta ra-ra skirt over trousers? That's not even IN this season.

The figure turned round, and I reached my hand up to slap this, this THING who dared buy my jacket when I suddenly noticed…

**"EMMET?!!** What are you doing here?!"


	2. Now that is just insulting

_After reading through my first chapter, I realised that I kinda made Alice sound a little bitchy, but Its harder to centre a story around a permanently happy person, but I'll try harder from now on!_

**I hated this chapter before, so this is the new improved version, which is hopefully a lot better, and it doesn't make me cringe every time I read it now. But please tell me what you think in a review. They make me happy **

Emmet whirled round and stared at me, like a rabbit caught in headlights, still clutching my jacket.

"Its not what it looks like Alice! Honest!"

I felt a snarl erupt from my lips. It takes a lot to get me angry, and generally its clothes related. I get shopping withdrawal symptoms. And woe betide the person who buys the last jacket in my size…

"IT WAS ROSALIE!" Emmet cried, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands,

"SHE MADE ME DO IT! Its not my fault she has a liking of Gucci jackets, and black brings out the amber flecks in her eyes eyes! She threatened me with horrible things Alice, horrible."

I stared at him, stony faced, with about as much compassion in my eyes as a rock. "Well then, enlighten me. What is THIS horrible?"

He gulped then carried talking in a shaky voice

"She vowed to make n…n…no physical contact with me for a month. A whole MONTH Alice. I cant survive that. And she promised to do, h…h….horrible things to my jeep, paint it….p….p….PINK. And cover the interior in W…w…William Morris leaf designs! You KNOW what too much foliage does to me Alice, please."

This seemed a reasonable explanation. And his face looked so pathetic and puppy-dog like, that it belonged on an Andrex toilet roll advert. But hang on…

"Emmet, I know Rosalie made you do this, but why the security guards outfit….and the skirt…and the THONG!?

Emmet looked sheepish. "The security Guard's outfit was so I could get in and out without causing suspicion. It was Rose's idea. Clever, huh? He looked proud at saying this. But there was still the women's clothing to answer for….

"And the skirt, Emmet?"

Now he looked embarrassed again. "I thought it might suit me…." He looked at the floor, staring at his black lace-up security guard shoes.

Perfect! As soon as his eyes left my face, I used my vampire speed to wrench the coat from his hands, and race for the nearest window to jump out of…

"FREEZE MA'AM" A policeman appeared in the doorway, with a gun held out in front of him, aiming straight between my eyes. Dammit, not again. Those ridiculous new-fangled security cameras, with built in police alerts. I KNEW I should have smashed 'em on the way in! I could have plucked that bullet straight out of mid air, but there's the whole human thing to keep in line with. I sighed. The whole 'fitting in' thing became quite taxing after a while.

"And what are you doing here?" the policemen asked menacingly, turning to face Emmet. "I don't remember security guards being allowed in this early. That's what the cameras are for! Don't you have a bed to be in at the moment? Like me?" He seemed more offenced that we'd runined his morning, than that we were robbing a department store.

Emmet pulled his trousers up, and looked the security guard in the eye/

"I take pride in my job, and I was just innocently checking the boxes, to make sure everything was in order, when I came across this vile intruder, who had the cheek to poke fun at my clothing. Cant a man wear a simple Japanese silk thong once in a while? There is just so much prejudice against cross dressers these days. You can't even leave the house in a knee length floral skirt anymore, without little kids laughing in the street. But when a grown woman makes fun of my dressing habit, its heart wrenching. I'm very sensitive about it you know!"

After delivering this speech Emmet, broke down in very convincing sobs. So convincing, they were almost real….

"You don't know what it's like!" he mumbled between sobs "One minute they want to dress you up, the next you get abuse for a tiny ra-ra skirt. Its not my fault if I like a little air around my privates is it? And a skirt is perfect for everyday life. For women AND men!"

After that the sobs died down, and Emmet drew himself up to his full height.

"Well," said the policeman menacingly

"Breaking into a shopping centre, in the early hours of the morning, attempted robbery, and INSULTING A SECURITY GUARD! I think I have no choice but for you to spend the week in a cell. Come with me miss, I have a special police cell, waiting just for you."

Prison? Now that's just insulting. Honestly, Selfridges, in London after a sale, is harder to break out of than prison. Those bargain hunters are stronger than they look. And besides prisons are like hotels these days, computers, pillows, microwaves. Not that I'll need the latter two. But it's easier to keep up human pretences on a comfy bed, rather than a stone block. And anyway, Carlisle will be along any second to bail me out….


	3. Frustration & Ideas

**I was gunna delete this story, I like the idea, Its just I dont tend to proof read, I just rely on spell check, so I never realised quite how awful chapter 2 was. So I PROMISE I will go back and change that soon. And also, I like this chapter, as I prefer writing in third person, which i will try and do more of from now on. And hopefully this chapter is a big improvement on the previous two.**

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"YOU DID **WHAT**?" Carlisle's booming shout echoed of the walls in the Cullen's living room.

"YOU DID **WHAT**????" Rosalie's voice parroted Carlisle's, as they both took a step toward Emmet.

"EVERYTIME we establish ourselves in an area, you do something like this! Singing 'Hannah Montana' from the top of the empire state building was NOT a clever move, and this is even worse…Alice has a CRIMINAL RECORD! And we are going to have to spend our time, bailing her out!"

Emmet looked guiltily at the floor. Rosalie took the break in Carlisle's unusually violent rant as a signal to begin her own…

"I said, put on the security guard's outfit, break in with as little damage as possible, grab the coat, and GET OUT! Did I say, potter about in the women's clothing section for half an hour, try on a thong and a ra-ra skirt, then cry about the prejudice against cross dressers!?"

"No Rose" Emmett replied forlornly.

"EXACTLY. And then did I say 'Get Alice arrested and personally escort her to the police station AND stop off en-route for dunkin' donuts?"

"No Rose."

"But, just out of interest, was that thong really pure silk? With Japanese lace?"

"Yes Rose"

"Well….erm, if you gave it to me…washed and dried, obviously….I….well, might be able to forgive you…?"

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**ALICE'S POV.**

They put me in solitary confinement! They could have at least given me company…some of those female prisoners were just bursting with makeover opportunities! I've been in here two hours now. It can't take THAT long to arrange bail can it?

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It was late at night, and Carlisle was pacing around his study, massaging his forehead with his index finger and thumb, and wondering how a family of vampires, who were as near to perfect as you could get (minus the whole blood issue of course) could muck up, time and time again? Normally Jasper would have avoided someone, full of such emotional turmoil, the tension in the room would have been obvious to the dimmest mortal. But bracing himself, he knocked on the door.

"Come in" Carlisle called squinting at the doorway. Jasper silently slid open the heavy oak door, and stepped lightly into the room.

"Hi" He said shakily "I need to talk to you? It's about, well Alice and her, well, unfortunate run in with the law?"

"Oh great," replied Carlisle, sinking into a chair, "Don't you want to talk about armies? Blood flavoured wine gums? Grizzly Bears? Anything other than Alice and this prison sentence!" Carlisle sighed, and suddenly felt a wave of calm rush through him, erasing his desperation and frustration. "Thanks Jasper. What ddi you want?"

"Well, you see, this has happened before hasn't it? These early morning shopping trips, it's every season! And I'm usually in the thick of it, sneaking around, and hunting through this seasons spike-heeled boots for a size five. So I thought, maybe…we could leave Alice in prison for a while?" Jasper came stuttering to a halt when he saw Carlisle's incredulous expression

"No, no, not in a mean way! She's my mate; do you think I can bear to be parted from her for even a second? But she needs it, to learn that she can't have everything, and I need it too, the police station must think I'm some sort of drag queen, the amount of times I've been caught holding women's clothing at 6am. I don't want her away for a day, an hour, a minute, but she needs it and she needs in soon."

Carlisle rubbed his head again. "Well, I'm not so sure…"

Suddenly the door burst open

"Sorry couldn't help overhearing" said Edward cheerfully, ignoring the daggers shooting from Jasper's eyes

"No literally, couldn't help it, I'm a mind reader!" He chuckled at his own, rather feeble joke, and then carried on

"I think Jasper's idea is EXCELLENT! She needs a lesson, and why not now!"

Secretly, all Edward was thinking about, was that as long as Alice was away, Bella didn't have to bear the ritual humiliation of 'Bella's Makeovers', and whatever made Bella happy, made him ecstatic.

Carlisle thought for a moment then said, "Well, I can see where you two are coming from. And I suppose a week in the cells wont harm Alice? And she does have an extraordinary control over blood drinking around humans"

Jasper flinched at this, reminded of his own inadequacies in this department.

"So, a week in the Cells for Alice it is then!" Said Carlisle, then proceeded to ring the police department.

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**Was this chapter any better? I proof read a bit, but Its late, and I need a shower, but I really wanted to post so I didnt have time. But review please! :)**


	4. Officer Ernie

**Fast updates atm, I like this part of the story, and reviews make me want to write more, so I get addicted. This chapter might be kindof boring, but I always make Alice's POV too bitchy, and I really dont like dialouge. But this is possibly my favourite chapter so far :) Also, I havent proof read. Yet again. Which isnt very good, i know. So point out any mistakes. I will do it next time if it kills me! :)**

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**OFFICER ERNIE'S POV**

She didn't look up as I walked down the corridor. She didn't look up as I fumbled around in my overcrowded pockets for my keys. She didn't look up as I selected the right one, and slotted it into the keyhole. She didn't look up as I twisted the key, sending the prison door flinging open, making a screeching noise to rival a tone-deaf cat. She didn't look up as I asked her to follow me, back down the corridor, and into the questioning room. In fact, come to think of it…she didn't look up atall. But I was used to this. Prisoners, they were an annoying species, either exited at 'breaking the law' or fuming mad, and muttering about private lawyers and the breaching of human rights and the usual 'it wasn't me'. Then a few hours later, the fight will have died, the lawyers cant do anything until morning, they cant be bailed out for 24 hours, and all hope (for now) is lost. So they sit there. And wait. And wait. And become more and more dejected. So y'know, nothing out of the ordinary. Except not a single prisoner had been quite so, _bouncy _before. She'd bounded straight from the police car, gabbling about makeover opportunities, and oil free shampoos for the secretary, and under eye concealer for one of the policewomen. And then Interior decorating for the cells. Believe me, I get enough of this at home with the wife, and I was certainly not enjoying a repeat of this at work. Now that security guard at the shopping centre, I could see where HE was coming from, stopping dunkin' donuts on the way to a police station, using the siren when the traffic got too thick. Shame he suddenly remembered he was moving to Timbuktu in five minutes. Ohwell.

Still, the girl…Alice I think her name was, was looking worse off than most. I've heard of that family, richer than anyone I'd know, and he's only a doctor. Most overpaid profession in the world if you ask me. A good bit of fresh air can cure anyone. But anyway, that sort of money wrecks havoc with young minds, they think they can have anything. Even Gucci coats two hours before opening times. And I'd bet the parents pander to it, complimenting them, and buying them presents. That's why she's looking so down, I decided, she hasn't been told how beautiful she is in a good few hours, and no-one's listened to her ideas. Honestly, kids these days. Hate 'em all. That's why Margery and I settled for a good old Yorkshire terrier. Can't go wrong with a Yorkie. But still, even I felt a tinnnnyyy bit of compassion, and sadness for her, when it was announced that her family had refused to pay her bail…and would not be collecting her for a week.

"What!" She screamed! I flinched; I never knew such a tiny body could release so much noise.

"I don't believe it! After all I've done for them, all the makeup, and what about Jasper, I can't GO any longer without seeing him. ERGH! Do you humans even know just how EASILY I could break through these walls? And bend these handcuffs like play dough. I can't believe it! I just CANNOT believe it! Edward, I bet it was Edward, with his scheming ideas, I've told him, again and again, Bella LOVES makeovers…I bet that was it. When I see him again, He's gunna be cowering under his precious Volvo, and running away, and ERGH!"

She carried on like this for quite a while, muttering about burning limbs, and dismembering. When she appeared to be calming down, I hissed into my walkie-talkie

"Call in a psychologist, obviously a very disturbed child. I personally blame the parents but….yes, straight away. And maybe some calming drugs. Yes, Officer, references to burning and dismembering and possible violence. Yeah. Yes, I would class her as a danger to surrounding people. And objects. She seems to think she can bend handcuffs. Yes. Uh-huhh, HOLY SHIT! She's pulled 'em off!"

She lunged towards me, a ferocious smile on her lips, not unlike an animal, before it kills it's prey. She opened her mouth to speak…

"You don't know how much of a danger to surrounding people I really am…"

And then she pounced.

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**REVIEW! The button's just below. Press it. Go on. You know you want toooo..... ;)**


	5. Violence & Pianos

**Did anyone notice the new, improved chapter two? Well, its bigger & better, so re-read it! And thankyou for all the reviews, the make me want to write more, faster! Byt I didnt realise I was meant to comment back. But it'll take too long, so I'm saying thanks to everyone here.**

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" She did what? Yes, erm, yes I agree too. Well, if you think that's best. Erm, yes…NO! Sorry, erm, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Alice can get, erm…claustrophobic in close quarters with others. Yes I understand that. Can we not just pay bail? Is there really no alternative? Well okay then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice day too. Bye."

Carlisle hung up the phone and sighed, sinking into a chair next to Esme, with a defeated and exhausted expression on his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when he re-opened them, they blazed with anger. Edward, reading Carlisle's mind began slowly retreating backwards into the kitchen. Emmett, following Edward's example, followed, but clearly walking backwards proved too much of a strain, as Emmett crashed onto the top of the piano, falling backwards over it and banging each key, like an elephant trying to play Mozart. The piano had been broken in half, its insides hanging out like metal intestines. Piles of splinters, littered with white & black keys coated the floor. Emmett was lying in the middle of the carnage, thrashing around like fish out of water. Edward abandoned his escape route, and charged at Emmett, furious that Emmett had succeeded in breaking his precious piano. Bella, Esme & Rosalie huddled up on the sofa, ducking their heads to dodge the flying chunks of wood and buttons, that had been ripped off of Edward & Emmett's clothing. Rosalie began screeching at them to stop fighting and Jasper, practically choking on the tension, rage, and fear, turned to leave the room.

"STOPPPP!"

Carlisle rarely screamed, but when he did, it was so loud, and terrifying, that everyone stopped moving. Rosalie's mouth froze in a perfect 'o' and Jasper stopped walking. Edward paused, clutching a chunk of Emmett's hair in one hand, and one of his feet in the other. Emmet stopped thrashing, and turned to face Carlisle, still holding Edward's left ear.

"Do you lot have no ounce of compassion, or regard for the seriousness of the situation? Alice is in prison now, surrounded by HUNDREDS OF HUMANS. With human _blood_ running through their veins. She might have amazing self-control, but who knows what Alice is capable of, when she's depressed, and angry? I just got a call from of the Wardens, to say that Alice had jumped on a security guard, stolen his phone, and logged onto Amazon online for her shopping fix! Next it wont be his phone, It'll be his right arm. And don't you snigger Emmett, this is all your fault!"

Emmett stopped laughing at once. 'haha' Jasper mouthed at him from behind Carlisle's back.

Carlisle spun round to face him

"Don't think you're off the hook Jasper, this was yours and Edward's 'brilliant' idea to leave her in there for a week. But now we don't even have the option to bail her out. Now she's in there for good, sharing a cell with a human! And there is NOTHING we can do."

Bella, who had been quietly observing all this time, was confused. Honestly, with a combined age of probably about 500 years, they sure could be pretty dim at times. She raised her hand.

"We cant get Alice out the legal way, can we? But you're vampires for heavens sake. Surely you don't adbide petty human laws? Wouldn't it be so much easier, to get her out illegally? We could, well….smash in and....break her out?"

Carlisle thought for a moment, and then a smile crept over his face.

"You know Bella, that's not such a bad idea…"

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**Short chapter, but i was impatient to get into the real story. Review me please!**


	6. The Slammer

**Thank you for the reviews, they are fab-u-lous! I had it in my msn name all night "Ohyeah, 26 reviews, wooohoo!" So thanks to everyone who bothered, even though you've probably all got old, had a few kids & died in the time it's taken for me to update. Im really sorry! I have loads of excues but they're too long and boring to take up space on my lovely fanfiction page. So read it please!**

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Thanks to a spot of flattery from Carlisle, a good old bit of emotional manipulation from Jasper, & promises of a date with a bikini clad Rosalie, Officer Ernie dropped the 'unreasonable behaviour' charges against me. However, I still had a week in prison. Clutching Rosalie's number, he waved them off from the police station, with a big soppy grin on his face. The smile faded as he spotted my scowl. He quickly adverted his eyes, and scuttled down a corridor, motioning for me to follow. We stopped outside what looked like a huge old-fashioned zoo cage. Thick steel bars covered a 10ft gaping hole in the wall, inside which three prisoners were sitting. Officer Ernie began to fumble around in his pockets for the keys, muttering to himself as he did so.

"How could two sisters be born into the same family? Obviously some sort of complex, perhaps against her sister's beauty? Ohh, there's a thought…I knew Mr Cullen was right when he suggested I shoulda been a psychologist. But then again, I always thought Broadway was the path for me, ever since I so expertly portrayed the sheep in my nursery nativity. Yes, I coulda been big. But I 'ave me kids to think of. But then, Psychology pays well eh? Hmm, ya only live once dontcha?"

I wasn't sure whether I was meant to respond to this, so I grunted. Poor Ernie looked quite startled at this, and found the keys quite quickly after that. I let myself be roughly shoved into the cell, and caught the black & white striped jump suit that was thrown at me. After that, Ernie waddled away at high speed, glancing worriedly behind his shoulder every two seconds, checking I hadn't bent the bars back, and charged after him. But I didn't, however much Id've liked to. Carlisle had made me promise not to. 'No more 'funny buisness' or messing around with vampire powers.' He'd warned 'we'll be there as fast as we can. Just try & keep the thirst in check for the week, okay?'

Humph. Easier said than done. But still. There could be fun in store. I glanced around the cell at my inmates. Immediately in front of me sat a tall, rangy looking man, with a thick mop of black hair. He was mumbling to himself, and sawing at his lower arms with what looked like a pink Chanel nail file.

"Aww Jimmy, Give me back my nail file! Ma' pinky aint polished!' A short blonde, with inch long roots, and a strong Tennessee accent appeared from her bunk. She had rolled up her jumpsuit legs to knee length, and undone the top buttons, showing off a chest so big; it couldn't possibly have been natural. She swivelled round to face me.

"My, my, aint cho prettay?" she looked me up and down. "I'm Marianne, this here's our Jimmy" she gestured towards the tall man, who was still filing at his wrists. "He hasa few problems? Ya get me? He likes a good self-harmin' session once ina while. But dontchoo worry, they clean the blood up every other day." Blood?! I gulped. This is going to be harder than I thought. I spotted another hunched figure sitting at a desk in the corner of the room. I lowered my voice. "Marianne…. Who's that?" She narrowed her eyes. "That's Mitch," She said in a low voice. "He don't like to be disturbed".

Suddenly, Mitch rose from his seat. "I'll choose whether or not I can be disturbed thanks Marianne," He glared at her, and then turned to face me. "I'm Mitch," He drawled, in a thick New York accent. "But most people call me _The Slammer_…." He tilted his head to one side, cracked his knuckles, and took a step towards me…

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**oOOoOo.....Cliffhangers. I love 'em. review it, lots and I'll try & update faster next time!**


	7. Bedtime

'Welcome to the gang.' He slapped me on the back, a little too hard for comfort. Well, I was okay, but I could see him nursing his fingers when he thought I wasn't looking! "Its nice to hava bita fresh blood, in 'ere, ya know what I'm sayin?" He smiled at me. I gulped. That…. word again. I was coping okay so far, I suppose. But just thinking about…._ Blood…_made my throat tighten, and I felt the burning sensation that I had resisted for so long, creep back into acknowledgement. I gritted my teeth, and shook my head. Slowly, the thirst subsided. However, my discomfort didn't go unnoticed by Marianne. She put an arm around my shoulders.

"Leave her alone Mitch, the poor darlin' needs her sleep."

Hmm. If only.

"No, honestly Marianne, I'm fine. I'll just make my bed, or clean the bars or wash Jimmy's razors…or…or…. I don't know. I'll find something."

"Nonsense. We all need our sleep don't we? Hold on, I have an idea. I used to be a nursery nurse ya know. Back in Tennessee. And when the little bubbas couldn't get their naps, I'd tell them a story."

Oh great. Another unoriginal rendition of the three bears. Whoopee. Marianne must've seen my incredulous expression, so she quickly changed her tone.

"I'm sorry darlin', I'm motherin' you aren't I? Wait…I know what could be real interesting! Howa bout a spot of real life?"

I must've looked blank, as she began waving her arms round, and staring up at the grotty ceiling as if for inspiration

"You know what I mean…. like those magazines you get in doctor's surgeries. Except, not the story of how '21-year-old Lauren from Saudi Arabia got mauled by a goat', but how I got sent to jail! Nothin' like a spot of crime & punishment, and a good old sob story to make your eyelids droop. So tuck yourself in, lovey, and listen up."

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**Haha, what a cliffhanger letdown. I can almost smell the pissed-off-ness of the fact I kept you wait for ages....for THAT! But the reason it took so long is because I'm posting the next chaper tomorrow, cus I didnt think it was fair to give you sucha crappy one. And I like chapter 8, so hopefully you will too x (REVIEW! even though there's not really much TO review)**


	8. Marianne's Story

**Sorry about the short chapter. But I wanted to save this one, because I enjoyed writing it. (I HATE writing using 1st person). But although this is Marianne's story, its written as if told by an outsider. I figured it might sound better this way :)**

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The canteen hierarchy was obvious to any newcomer. Nearest to the door were the smallest, most decrepit tables, stained with ancient pizza sauce blobs, and caked in a thin layer of decayed food. These were home to a shy, retiring group of people, reading or studying whilst eating, paying little or no attention to the food before them. They were not friends, but drifted together, not out of hobbies or shared enjoyments, but out of pure fear for the next table's inhabitants…

Next to the windows, stood the newer tables, scrubbed with disinfectant before school every morning to ensure the surfaces were utterly unblemished, for this 'superior' race to dine upon. The rich kids. The 'popular' kids. The cheerleaders. All joined together each lunchtime, to pore over magazines, whilst fiddling with tiny dressing-less salads, to look 'totally hot' and skinny at that pool party next month, whilst their boyfriends sat sideways on stools next to them, fiddling with basket balls, and pretending to be interested. However, one of the cheerleaders, the shortest, blondest, and arguably prettiest, looked distracted. Marianne wasn't quite as distinguished as her so called 'friends' may have thought. Her family didn't have a four storey mansion. Their 'house' had 18 floors. However, different people occupied each one. Marianne and her family were storey 7. They had two bedrooms. A bathroom. A Kitchen, and a small cramped living room, with peelingwall paper, and suspicious mouldy growths in the corners. So, where was the billiards room? The library? The heated indoor swimming pool? Well, a single income from a Macys store assistant didn't have much capacity for a mansion. In fact, it barely paid the bills. Marianne's mother often came home with a deathly pallor, and black bruise like rings around her eyes, from working double shifts when the bills had to be paid. And it was visiting her mother whilst she was working one day, that inspired Marianne to begin the 'career' that would earn her a fortune, but one day be her downfall.

Marianne did not, as you would hope, see a homeless person being helped. Not even a cat being saved from a tree. In fact that was no act of unspeakable kindness that Marianne witnessed. Instead, she saw a small, skinny woman, dressed entirely in black, sneak an expensive looking jacket under her coat, and cautiously make her way to the door. Marianne's heart beat at twice its normal rate, willing this woman to get through safely. And she did. Once the woman made it outside, she whipped the bag from beneath her jacket, in front of a tall man in a pinstriped suit. He examined the bag thoroughly, before nodding his head, and producing a wad of cash. More money than Marianne had seen in her whole life. And to think, all that, for hiding a bag? She could do that in her SLEEP! When Marianne and her mother were leaving, Marianne excused herself to go to the toilets; however, she took a detour towards the purse & wallet section. She glanced around above her head, for CCTV cameras, and peered around displays for shop assistants. Seeing nobody who could report her, Marianne slid four purses into her oversized green coat, then hurriedly left the shop. Her heart fluttered like a caged butterfly as she walked past the security guards, but the big burly hand on her shoulder, and she deep voice asking her to empty he rpockets did not materialise. Instead Marianne walked freely into the dark, rain drenched high street, dodging puddles, and congratualting herself on her luck, and on a whole new oppurtunity.

20 year's later, Marianne West was at the top of her game, the number one stolen goods dealer in the USA. It had evolved, from purses, to jackets, to jewellery, to pure money. She kept a few jobs on the side of course, personal shopper, Librarian, Nursery Nurse. Ironic really that someone who would shoot someone dead in the blink of an eye, using a shocking pink revolver, should perform such ordinary jobs. But she did. And she did them well. So well, that no-one would've noticed. Marianne could be kind and sweet, but she didn't care who she killed, as long as it brought home enough to buy the mansions she always dreamed of. And those other cheerleaders? With the mansions and the pools? They started rich, married rich and would probably die rich in velvet lined coffins. But none as rich as Marianne. Though it wasnt always meant to turn out like this. It was a hobby, a help for the bills. Her mother belived her to have a saturday job, maybe in Mcdonalds, or a wallmart. Little did she know that Marianne used those saturday hours to exchange goods with the man in the pinstriped suit, the man she had tracked down, a week after her first stealing. But of course, it became obvious that Wallmart didnt pay in wads of cash. And a McDonalds salary wasnt thousands of pounds. So the sleepless night's returned for Marianne's mother, not because of overworkedness, but because of worry. Worry which eventually became too much for her. So Marianne's mother passed into one of her only uninterrupted sleeps, forever. And she never saw the mansions, the ferraris, the jewels. But Marianne kept going. The death of her mother only made her more determined to come out on top.

But you get too cocky. And criminals are, well, criminals. They don't have a moral code. They don't have a 'you helped me, I wont report you' chain of thought. Say, if one criminal was getting a littleeeeee bit worried about loosing business? So that said criminal might reach for his mobile phone, in the pocket of his pinstriped suit and give a certain detective certain details as to where Marianne would be that night? So that said detective could add yet another big shot criminal to the pile of them already littering up the prison cells.

Marianne didn't often personally exchange money anymore. But she owed this guy a favour. If she hadn't seen him buy that bag, back when she was sixteen, she'd have been living in a bedsitter right now. So Marianne figured she'd go along, get the cash, maybe give a quick note of thanks perhaps, and then leave.

But things don't always go as planned. People are always there to trick you. And that is why Marianne is sitting in a jail cell today.

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**You like it? Then review please! This has been my favourite chapter so far to write i thanks LemonDropDreams for reviews, and being ultra eager for the next chapter :) And Evanescant romance, for being generally awesome.**


	9. SuperVillians & Spoons

**HAPPY CHRISTMAS**

* * *

ALICE'S POV

When the last word escaped Marianne's lips, silence filled the room. I gulped. Killings? I thought, maybe a little robbery, a few car chases, like a low budget James Bond, with Marianne a few inches taller, and a few pounds slimmer, in a long black dress clutching a diamond studded revolver. Well, Marianne's gun WAS fuchsia? Adds a bit of glamour I suppose. But still, it was so incredibly naïve of me, to think these three high protection criminals were kept behind bars for stealing pic'n'mix or something. And besides, who am I to talk? I'm more of a danger than the other three put together! I wouldn't be the ordinary gangster, I'd be the super villain, with the black cloak, and the sequinned mask…oohhh, and maybe a cat suit! Stylist by day, bloodsucker by night. Really, I'm surprised the comics haven't come up with that by now! 'Super Alice' 'Alice-the-Vamp' 'The Scary Stylist'…

But still. Escaping would be so easy. Just because of Carlisle's reputation, I was banged up with a trio of deadly criminals, one a regular self-harmer! Well, so much for a hospital job, and a library subscription, or whatever else was tying us to this town, but some sort of massacre in the jail would be inevitable soon! Oh, if only I'd hunted before. The burning was tickling the back of my throat, crawling to reach my gums, and effulging me in a prickling sensation, forcing my mouth open to breath the sweat filled air, saturated with the stench of blood. I clenched my fists, using every last ounce of my strength to fight the fire, push it away, and slowly, the thirst subsided. But it was not gone, and nor was it satisfied. Like a monster inside of me, it was biding It's time, waiting, for when I could resist no longer, to surface once again.

* * *

"Emmett, is it REALLY necessary to wear an officer's uniform? We're planning a break-in, not a fancy dress party!"

The Cullens, excluding Alice, were seated around a small circular table, in Esme's potting shed. A lone bulb hung from the damp-caked ceiling, and flies were everywhere, filling the room with their droning relentless buzz. Given the circumstances, and the fact that one of his adopted daughters was in jail, Carlisle was allowed to be irritable. And Emmet DID look slightly ridiculous.

Although the idea was Bella's, Jasper & Emmett had been keen to take over. They stood in front of the rest of the family, next to an old tea-stained map, brandishing long walking sticks to point at assorted marks on the map, which would apparently form the basis of the plan. Both looked proud, and rather pompous.

Rosalie drummed her expensively manicured fingers on the table, waiting for the lecture to begin. Edward seemed grumpy, possibly because this gathering was wasting time, which could otherwise have been spent alone with Bella. Bella, who was perched on the side of Edward's, chair, seemed quietly amused, and rather exited at the idea of a full-scale plan, of which she could be of true help. Although she loved her vampire family as if they were her own, she sometimes felt somewhat overshadowed in their various schemes. She was often a hindrance, not help. But human contact could be necessary in this operation, so Bella eagerly anticipated the plan ahead.

Jasper cleared his throat.

"As you all know, Private Alice has been detained in a detention centre until further notice." Jasper enjoyed the limelight, and he enjoyed instructing people. However, he COULD get slightly carried away with the army vocabulary.

"Wait," Rosalie interrupted sarcastically, "When did Alice join the army?"

"Uhm, erm…er…" Alice would have spurted out an automatic witty retort, but Jasper's arguments were lost without her.

"Let the boys have their fun" smiled Esme, in a motherly, yet authorative voice, "Its not every day a family member's in prison!"

"Well, lets not make it a habit," Muttered Carlisle

"AS my partner was saying…" Continued Emmett "Alice is in jail. And we are here to GET. HER. OUT!" he tapped the paper for emphasis whilst saying this, causing great gashes to form in the paper, mutilating their map.

Jasper sighed "Typical. That was our only reliable direction! Any other bright ideas, Einstein?"

Emmet puffed out his chest. "As a matter of fact I DO! Cake making. Simple, yet so utterly genius."

Bella wrinkled her nose in confusion "How will a Victoria Sponge, or a chocolate log help Alice? It seems a bit weird to me." That last remark earnt her a glare from Rosalie, who quickly turned to face Emmett

"Carry on with your plan darling"

Emmett looked pleased, "Well, Its not the CAKE that counts, its what's INSIDE the cake…"

This time it was Esme's turn to look baffled. "What …..like jam?"

"No! Like knives, guns, or erm, spoons!"

"SPOONS?" Edward sounded incredulous. "How exactly is cutlery going to aid our escape plan?"

Jasper took over the explanations "He means like the old prison escape movies, bake a spoon or a gun or something into a cake, so they can dig their way out!"

"Ahh" replied Carlisle "We still have that recipe book for beginner's don't we? Well, Emmett, Edward & Jasper, you can work on this cake plan, under Bella's supervision, whilst me and Esme have some well deserved privacy"

"Hmm," Esme smiled at her husband "I like that sound of that idea!"

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**Thought I'd put the authors note at the end this time cus its really long. Sorry for the slow upates, i had a major plot crisis, i mucked up the whole story by accident. But I got over it and I've changed it now. It's not what I wanted from my original idea, but it'll do. And I think It may turn out better, because at least now there will be a proper plotline.** Thanks for all the reviews, I know the last chapter was a bit weird, but the reasons for it will become clear. And also, I quite like helpful critcisms etc, but please read the fanfiction first. My friend explained what a 'flame' was to me, and it would be nice if i didnt get any more.

**HAPPY CHRISTMAS. Or whatever you celebrate. Happy Santa day if you arent religious :)**


	10. See what I have to live with?

**ALICE'S POV**

It was Jimmy who broke the deafening silence.

"Ya know? That story seems kinda familiar. I'm getting' a sense of…erm, what's the word?"

"Deja-vu?" offered Marianne

Jimmy snapped his long, bony fingers. "That's it! Life sucks, Karma's an ass, and half the world are backstabbers! Maan, what a moral! Nah, but that's not all. That pinstriped guy, did you ever see his face?"

Marianne thought for a moment, and then rested her chin on her hand "Nah, ya know what? I don't think I ever did. Weird really. I never thought of that. He always had a black fedora, pulled low over his face. I guess I never bothered asking questions. Naïve I suppose, but with my background that's only expected, I was deprived. Not emotionally, but I never quite had the oppurtun…."

"YAH yah yah." Mitch stood up from his position on a stool in the corner. He was the only one whom Marianne's story had not affected. He merely sat throughout the tale looking pensive, yet indifferent. "Sick of the sob story. Deprived, penniless, forced into the cruel, cruel world of crime and stealing. Blah, Blah. Spare me the self-pity PER-LEASE."

And with that, he turned back to the grubby desk, which he seemed to have monopolised, and began signing random papers, and tapping messages into his mobile phone (prison's a pushover these days).

Well. No-one was seemed really quite sure what to say next. Luckily my experience with a relentlessly bickering family made me feel quite comfortable in this situation.

"So," I said, forcing a smile "How did you get in here, Jimmy?"

He took a rasping breath, and began his story…

* * *

"Are you SURE we're doing this right, Emmett? Cant we just wait for Bella?" Jasper looked worried. The mixture wasn't quite the smooth silky cream Bella had promised. It was a suspicious grey colour, and had a scattering of strange lumps.

"Yeah sure," replied Emmett confidently. "A few lumps & bumps are what make's the cake special, eh Rose?"

Rosalie surveyed the mixture over the cover of the magazine she was reading.

"Looks _fine_ to me," she said in a venomous tone, before returning to her magazine. Anything related to being human was never going to win Rosalie over, least of all a cake making session, something she did regularly whilst planning her wedding, before being brutally murdered by her husband & his friends.

However, Jasper didn't look totally convinced. Those lumps were DEFINITELY not there when Esme baked.

"When exactly is Bella arriving, Edward?"

Edward looked up. He had been sitting at the breakfast bar, pinching the bridge of his nose, worrying about Bella's lateness, and the potential food poisoning she may receive from Emmett's cake. He opening his mouth to reply, when the doorbell sounded. With speed that only a very desperate vampire could muster, he sped towards to door, swinging it open, and grabbing Bella's coat before pulling her into an embrace.

"Please. Help." He whispered into Bella's ear. "Its horrific."

Bella blanched, she may not have vampire smelling powers, but the dung-like smell that the 'cake' was emitting could've been smelt a mile away. She rushed into the kitchen, and saw Emmett surveying the mess in the bowl with a grim look on his face, Jasper standing a mile away holding his nose, and Rosalie calmly reading Vogue in an armchair.

"Oh god! Emmett, what have you put in this! It looks like it might grow legs & eat something!"

"Its not that bad!" cried Emmett, pushing the bowl towards Bella. "Just taste it!"

Edward jumped in front of him, and whisked the bowl away from Bella's reach. "Just a look will be fine."

Bella stared at the congealing mulch in front of her. "What on earth is in this!?"

"Well," Jasper began… "Me & Emmett took a trip to the local newsagents whilst Edward tried to figure out how the microwave worked. We did exactly as you said…. Eggs, Flour, Sugar, Butter, and a spoon, obviously. We haven't put that in yet though.

Bella looked confused. "I don't see what could have gone so awfully wrong then?"

"There were a few slight issues with the ingredients though," said Emmett "There were no fresh eggs, but Jasper was pretty sure those Scotch Eggs would be fine. We just scraped the breadcrumbs from round the edges. There was a bit of a problem with the sugar & butter too. No sugar, so we got one of the sherbet straws and tipped that in. Sugar/Sherbet, what's the difference eh? They did have SOME butter, but not enough for the measurements, so we bought some Weather's Originals for the rest. It said they were Butter Candies on the packet? But the stupid things were hard-boiled, so we melted them in the microwave, and then put them in too. But the whole melting thing didn't work too well. That's what the lumps are. We put it in the microwave for half an hour like you said, then stirred. I don't know what's up with the colour, but It should be safe to eat. Fancy trying it?"

"Erm, no thanks Emmett, I'll pass." Bella turned onto Jasper "Why didn't you try to shop him in the shop?!"

Jasper shifted from one foot to the other looking guilty "I was a teenage boy when I was changed, when would I have learnt to cook!?"

Bella looked slightly irritated now "Okay, I understand that I guess…Rosalie, you must have done HEAPS of cooking before your wedding, why on earth didn't YOU help? Surely you must know that you can't bake in a MICROWAVE? Or use scotch eggs!"

Rosalie sniffed, looking as if a small blob of cow poo had just attempted to kiss her "**I** was reading vouge. And why would they need my help? They're big boys, they can look after themselves AND their food, can't you darling?"

Emmett smiled at her, then looked indignantly at Bella. "I think my cake is simply AMAZING. You wouldn't know a good chef if Gordon Ramsay danced naked in front of you!" With Rosalie on his side, he was a lot more confident about the awful gloop he'd created.

Edward looked mortified, and shot Bella a 'see what I have to live with?' face. Bella smiled sympathetically at him, then said

"Tell you what…why don't I take your cake home Emmett, and erm, sort it out?"

Jasper sighed in relief. "Yes please Bella" and handed her the cake tin. Edward walked Bella to the door.

"How on earth are you going to sort out that mess! It looks as if it's been eaten once already, then regurgitated!"

"Don't worry" She whispered "Its going straight in the bin as soon as I'm home!"

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**Not one of my best, but I quite like it. Next chapter will be another life story, please read it, even if you didnt enjoy the last, It will have some significance, I promise! Im going to try and update more often, so hopefully the next chapter wil be up in the next week. READ & REVIEW PLEAAASE! Thats the only thing that makes me enjoy writing this. :) **


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